Preacher (The Untouchables MC 5)

Hell, I wanted to make pancakes for the woman and serve them to her in bed.

It was nuts, but I hadn’t thought of or even looked at a woman in passing since I met her. I was always a hound, especially since giving up any semblance of trying to be good. I loved women and they usually loved me. All kinds. And if the lady was good looking, I usually ended up in bed with her.

But Cynthia was something else. I was starting to understand Lucky’s obsession with his wife and how he called her ‘Angel’.

Except Cynthia was a little too spicy to be an angel. She was something else altogether. A stone-cold fox. Or a goddess.

I held the door for her and walked her the last few blocks home.

“The food is great.”

She nodded proudly.

“Mike and Doris opened it up last year. It really changed the tone of the area. Especially when the outdoor cafe is open.”

I resisted the urge to take her hand and squeeze it. Down, boy. She still thinks you are a Godless criminal, remember? If you want something to happen, you’re going to have to work for it. Hard.

I was a criminal. But not Godless. No matter how mad I got at the Big Guy, I still held him in my heart.

“We need more places like that. To keep people out and happy. It will make the crime drop.”

She gave me a look.

“We?”

I shrugged, not saying anything. What could I say? I wasn’t missing being drunk all day as much as I had thought I would. I wasn’t missing being shiftless and carefree. As much as I dreaded standing up to give a sermon on Sunday, as much as I had kicked and screamed the whole way up here, I was starting to really care about the people here.

One in particular.

There was no way I could say any of that. Not yet. Probably not ever.

We stopped at her stoop again. I held my hand out. She stared at it.

“I can’t get a goodnight handshake?”

She laughed and gave me her hand. I felt an actual shock at the contact. I tugged her a little closer until we were face to face.

“Goodnight, darlin’,” I murmured huskily.

“I told you not to call me that,” she said, her voice nearly breathless. But she didn’t pull away.

“All right,” I said, smiling slowly. “Goodnight, hellcat.”

She cracked a smile at that.

“Goodnight, Preacher.”

I let go of her hand and waited until she was inside. She looked a little flustered, truth be told. Nothing could have pleased me more than watching Miss Cynthia fumbling with her keys.

I was smiling the whole way home.

Chapter Twelve

Cynthia

The church was filling up fast. I glanced around, seeing no sign of Preacher. I knew he was nervous about giving his first sermon. He’d been quiet for days. He hadn’t even gotten cheeky on our nightly walks home the past few nights.

And now he was . . . not here. I stepped outside, deciding I’d better check on him. I saw the door to the parsonage was open to the courtyard. I stepped closer and saw him at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.

“Preacher? It’s time. Are you ready?”

He raised his head and stared at me. I was struck by the powerful emotions in his eyes. He stood up and crossed the room. I gasped as his strong arms pulled me inside and flat against his warm, broad chest. His mouth smashed down on mine, making my knees go weak.

His lips were firm and soft. His hands were possessive as he gripped me firmly. His body gave off a tremendous heat. His mouth slanted over mine, coaxing my lips to open. Without thinking, I parted my lips and the kiss went wild. The room tilted as his hands slid over my back, touching me gently, pressing me closer to him. I felt his cock rising up against me and whimpered at the primal feeling it invoked, somehow making me feel strong and soft at the same time.

He was big. Really big.

Preacher was hung like a horse.

He lifted me off my feet and pressed me into the wall so that our bodies lined up. His hardness continued to grow, seeking and finding the sensitive place between my legs. I gripped his shoulders, unable to do more than hold on for dear life.

And then it was over. He lifted his head, staring down at me. His gaze was possessive. Hot and satisfied. His lips twisted into a smirk that made me want to smack him.

“I am now,” he said, setting me gently back on my feet. It took a full minute before I realized he was answering my question from before.

He adjusted himself, still staring at my mouth. With a wry twist of his lips, he stepped back and reached for the door.